


Gasping

by PurpleArrowzandLeather



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Son of Batman (2014), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Big Brother Dick Grayson, Buried Alive, scared jason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-17 16:30:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15465480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleArrowzandLeather/pseuds/PurpleArrowzandLeather
Summary: The mobs in Gotham are all running scared in fear of the Red Hood. All of them except one, and they aim to bury him.





	Gasping

          Jason growls from where he's perched near a gargoyle. He's been watching the Satori crime family for hours, and they have yet to do anything about his demands. There's no panic, or rushed preparation. They're just sitting around and going about business as usual.

          Something is wrong. 

          Jason shakes his head.  _Maybe I just wasn't clear enough._ He sighs to himself.  _I think chopping of the Lieutenant's head and putting it on the platter for his dinner should have made my point very clear._

          Jason had watched him open the lid to the platter and he seemed unperturbed, only pushing it away and making a show of wiping his hands while asking for a new plate. 

          Jason is about to leave when something catches his eye. Satori looks out the window and smiles right at Jason. A cold shiver winds up his back and he turns to leap from the crest of the building. There's a masked man waiting for him. He looks like an assassin from the League, cloaked from head to toe in black and a hood over his head to shadow his eyes. Jason turns again, finding another one behind him.

          He realizes why they look like League. Talia had mentioned breakaways turned freelancers the last time they spoke, but she hadn't mentioned that they were coming to Gotham. Given, the crime rate is high enough that any assassin looking for a job has an easy opening. 

          "Did the League not pay you guys enough, or what?" Jason snaps. 

          Their eyes narrow, but they don't respond. Jason hadn't expected them to. 

          He turns to the side and jumps over the edge of the building, free falling until a jump line wraps around him. He's jerked to a stop and he cries out as the wire secures his left arm, the metal cutting right through his jacket and into his skin. His shoulder socket burns and he considers himself lucky that it didn't dislocate. Breathing past the pain, he pulls out his knife, slicing the cable.

          He pulls out his grapple gun and swings to the top of another building, landing safely on the flat surface. He looks at his arm, tugging the shredded pieces of leather back to get an idea of how bad it is. Jason has been tangled in a jump line before, but never like this. The skin is mangled and pinched between the thin lines. It's wrapped around his arm three times and another around his wrist, effectively making his arm useless. He'll be able to bend it, at least.

          An assassin lands behind him and Jason breaks into a run, cradling his arm close to him. It throbs and blood trails down his skin, his fingertips dripping with scarlet. A League star sinks into his back and he falls, panting. He's just at the edge of the building when one grabs him and he knocks the assassin off, rolling over and kicking him away. He glances over the edge before rolling over it with a groan.  _This is gonna sting a bit._

          He lands on the lid of a dumpster, crushing it in. The air leaves his lungs in a single exhale and Jason struggles to breathe, sucking air in desperately. He pulls himself from the dumpster, making a break for the street. He hurries across six lanes of traffic and taps into his comms. 

          "Hey, does anybody read me?" he says, coughing. "Anyone copy! Even Baby Bird at this point!"

          He gets Barbara. "Hey, Hood. Hard night?"

          He takes in a shaky breath, skidding a corner into another alley. A dagger sinks into the back of his knee and he topples, his injured arm taking the brunt of it. Barbara springs into action when he screams, her fingers clacking against the keys loudly enough for Jason to hear. He pulls the dagger free, stumbling to his feet and turning to fight. The assassin is already too close, kicking his leg to send him to the ground and slamming his head against the wall until his helmet cracks. It's torn from his face and Jason groans, his nose bleeding. They leave his domino alone, taking what's left of the wire attached to his arm and dragging him forwards. The other takes his hair, holding a blade to his throat as he tries to pull away. His arm shakes with strain, blood coating what's left of his sleeve. 

          Jason gets dizzier as they walk, and before he knows it, they've dragged him back to Satori's house. Jason fights the urge to heave up his stomach contents as his vision whirls in a tight loop, only stopping when they bring him to his knees in front of Satori himself. Satori grabs his chin, tilting his head up to look at him. 

          "The Red Hood." he muses, chuckling and dropping Jason's head. "Brought down by two men in the city he laid to waste all on his own. Look at you now."

          Jason takes in a deep breath, trying to stop his muscles from shaking with shock. 

          "You're all but a child. Look at yourself. Shaking, bleeding."

          Jason chuckles. "Look, I appreciate that you think this is amusing, but could you just hurry up and kill me already? I'm having a hard time listening to your speech 'cause...." Jason swallows.  "it takes awhile to digest so much stupid at once."

          He frowns, tilting his head. "I'm not going to kill you, Hood."

          "If you want to get rid of me, you'll have to." Jason snaps.

          " _You_ aren't in a position to be making threats." he looks up at the two assassins. "You know you orders. Take care of him."

          They pull him away, Jason limping with them. He's tossed into the back of a black panel van.  _Declan Plumbing_ _._  They tie his hands to the roof, securing his legs with thick cuffs. Jason tries to take the weight off of his arm, biting his lip when he realizes that he can't move far enough. He rests his forehead against his good arm, trying to ignore that his fingers are starting to get cold.  _Not a good sign._

          They drive for a long while, Jason rocking with the movement of the van to lessen the pain just a little. It's still throbbing, so that's okay so far, but he needs to get the wire loose to get circulation back. 

          The van jerks to a stop and Jason chokes back a yelp. The back doors open up and one of the two assassins hits him in the face, making his vision swing lazily. When he doesn't seem to have been knocked out, they hit him again. Jason isn't quite sure what happens next, but he knows that they carried him a short distance.  _Hurry up, he's heavy!_

          Jason is too delirious to take offense.

          It goes dark for a little while and Jason takes solace in the quiet. There's a hint of warning in his mind, but he's too tired to act on it.

          He wakes to a buzzing nearby. He lifts his head, his head coming up to soothe his headache. He hits wood first. Alarm tears through him and he's fully awake, panic causing him to press at the lid. His arm aches and his knee hurts and he's scared.  _Just so scared._

          A fluttery breath leaves him until the persistent buzzing gets his attention again. He picks up the phone, pressing answer before he even knows who it is.

          "H-hello?" Jason asks.

          " _Jason?_ "

          It's Dick.

          "Dick." Jason manages, fear stealing his voice away before he can say anything else.

          " _Hey, are you okay?_ "

          Jason shakes his head, pressing the top of the phone to his forehead and repeating 'no' over and over. 

          " _Where are you? We've been looking for hours and haven't found anything except for your helmet."_

          Jason's lungs squeeze and he starts to hyperventilate. Tears stream down his face and he shifts, pain spiking up from his knee. "I-" Jason starts, his mouth dry. " _I've been buried alive._ "

          " _Are you hurt?_ "

          Jason doesn't even care that Dick can't see him as he nods. "M-My arm."

          " _Is it broken?_ "

          "No. It's-It's tangled up in.... in a jump line. I think it's m-most of the way into my muscle. I can't-I can't move it much. Dick, I can't-  _it hurts! Ithurtsithurts._ "

          " _Jay, just clam down, okay? Listen to me. Do you remember anything?"_

          Jason takes a deep breath, trying to reign himself in. "I-I was trying to get the S-Satori crime family to...." Jason swallows, squeezing his eyes shut. "to cooperate. He sent freelance assassins after me. They used to be League, but they... they broke their ties."

          " _Anything else?_ "

          "The van that they put me in." 

          " _What, what is it? Did you get a plate?_ "

          Jason tries to picture it, and the plate is gone. "No. No plate, but there was a big sticker on the side. It was a black panel van and- and there was a sticker. It was... It was-" 

           _I can't remember._ Jason chokes down a pained noise, groaning as he moves his left arm.

          " _Jay, take a deep breath. The sticker. You can do this. You can do this, Little Wing."_

          Jason's shaky hands fumble and he drops the phone. There's a voice in the back of his head that sounds suspiciously like Bruce that tells him to get ahold of himself. The stuffy air and the crowded space are making it hard for him to focus. 

          " _Little Wing, are you still there?"_

          "Yeah." Jason answers, hating how small and fearful his voice sounds.

          " _Jay, are you doing okay?_ "

          "What kind of question is that?!" Jason hisses. "I'm trapped in a damn wooden box! I can barely use my left arm and I probably won't be able to walk when I get out of here!"

          " _Why?_ "

          "Why?! Because assassins like to throw things, that's why! Because assassins tied me in the back of a freaking plumbing van, that's why! Because Satori decided I needed to be buried alive, _that's why_!" Jason lets out a long string of swears as his eyes well up a second time.

          " _Jay. It's okay. It's okay. You said it was a plumbing van?_ "

          Jason stops. "What?"

          " _You said it was a plumbing van. Do you remember who it belonged to?"_

          Jason swallows. "I hate you. You made me freak out and that is not fair. I don't care if-"

          " _Jay. We're going to find you. The van?_ "

          Jason takes a few shaky breaths to calm himself down. "Uh. Plumbing, plumbing. Declan! It was Declan!"

          " _That's great, Little Wing. You're doing great. Just stay calm. Where did the van leave from?_ "

          "Satori's house."

          " _Okay. Babs is tracking the van now. You're sure there were no plates?_ "

          "No plates." Jason agrees. 

          " _All right. We've got a general area. Just, stay calm, all right, buddy?"_

"Mmhmm."

          " _I'll be right here, if you need me, all right?_ "

          Dick's line goes quiet for a few minutes and Jason shines the light of his phone on his arm. It's hard to see how bad it is with all the blood. 

          " _Jason, anything you can do to give us a clue as to which grave you're in?"_

Jason feels for his hip holster, finding that his gun is gone. He'd guess the other one is empty too. Jason shifts, a breath stuttering out of his chest as the hook at the end of the jump line pulls at the skin of his shoulders. 

          "No."

          It's quiet for a bit, and Dick tells him to listen for them calling. It's nearly fifteen minutes and Jason still hasn't heard a thing. It's when Dick sucks in a breath of air that Jason tenses. 

          "What?"

          " _The first van was a misdirect, Jay. There were two of them, but the second one dropped off the camera and then disappeared."_

          Jason shakes his head and twists onto his side, reaching into his boot for his knife. His arm flares with pain and he groans, wishing he had just a bit more space. He pockets his phone.

          Jason mutters under his breath. " _If wishes were horses, beggars would ride._ "

          Clawing at the top of the box sends flashbacks flickering across his vision, but he refuses to stop. He's sobbing and bleeding, his head pounding as the dirt crashes into the box. He nearly ends up with a mouthful before he remembers to turn his head away. The dirt is cold and soggy, easy to pull apart. He can barely hear Dick asking him what he's doing that has him so panicked. Jason can't answer, not without ending up with a face-full of dirt. 

          His left arm works feebly next to his right, his fingers not quite responding properly. It hurts to use, but he has to get out. He drops his knife somewhere along the way and eventually he's standing upright on the bottom of the box.  _Not coffin, box._ That doesn't make him feel any better.

          Dirt cakes his body as he drags himself up. His fingers hit free air and he digs to get the hole wider. He manages to crawl a few feet once he's free, but then he collapses. Jason's entire body is trembling and tears slide down his face as he comes back around. A whimper crawls its way out of him before he can do anything about it and he calls for his dad. He calls for Bruce, his voice barely a croak. He can't really hear Dick calling to him anymore.

          If feels like he lies there for hours before gentle hands turn him over. "Jason?"

          When Jason glances up, it's Bruce. He clutches to him, shaking. Bruce tries to quiet him, pulling him close and whispering reassurances.

          "It's all right now, Jason. I need to get you out of here though. Can you walk?"

          "No."

          Bruce's cool hand lands on his forehead and Jason hates how he leans into it before he can see Bruce's brow crease with worry. "You're burning up."

          "You're in civies." Jason mumbles. "Gettin' your suit messy."

          Bruce chuckles. "If you think for one second that my suit is what I care about right now, you are wholly wrong."

          Bruce picks him up, Jason cradling his left arm close and choking back a yelp as the back of his knee is rubbed against Bruce's suit coat. 

          "Are you all right?"

          "My knee." Jason mumbles. 

          "Okay. We'll take it nice and easy, but we've gotta get a move on or you're going to bleed out."

          Jason groans. "Not worth the headache of a blood transfusion."

          "I'll let Leslie know so she can come help." Jason nods and Bruce sets him down in the back of the car, getting in and settling Jason's head in his lap. "To the cave, fast." 

          "Yes, sir." Alfred answers hastily.

          Bruce tugs what's left of Jason's sleeve to get a look at his arm and Jason bucks on the seat, a strangled noise coming from his throat. Bruce tries to calm him down, stroking a hand through his sweaty and muddy hair.

          Jason turns his head, a sob tumbling from his mouth. " _It hurts. Stop. Stop, please._ "

          "I already let go, Jason. You're all right. It's okay."

          Jason nods, tears falling down his cheeks. " _Don't leave me._ " he whispers, clutching to Bruce's suit with his good hands. " _Don't leave me. Not again._ "

          "I'm not going anywhere."

          Bruce tries to ignore the prick of unease in his chest, instead focusing on praying that Jason will be all right. 

          Dick meets them when they reach the cave and is startled by the sight that meets him. He helps Bruce pull Jason out of the car, the blood on Bruce's suit a bloody red flag across his white dress shirt. Alfred makes quick work of getting him prepped and Leslie is already running down the cave steps to help him. She cuts his jacket off of his arm, barely pausing when she sees the bloody mess beneath. 

          Bruce stands off to the side, hating that he's standing helplessly while they do all the work. Dick is hovering near him, horrified by the sight of his little brother's arm. 

          Leslie glances up at the EKG, frowning. Looking back at his arm, she frowns harder. 

          "Leslie, what it is?" Bruce asks, taking a step forward. 

          "His blood is starting to coagulate. Whatever has been done to him before accelerated his healing and if we don't get the wire out now, he'll start healing with it in his arm. I need a spare hand."

          Tim and Damian appear in the doorway, Tim carrying Barbara, since the stairs aren't very wheelchair friendly. Barbara looks relived that they found him. 

          "Bruce, I need you to hold him down. Dick, I need you to take the end of the wire and start pulling it out."

          Dick looks like he might protest, but he takes one look at Jason's face and nods, grabbing onto the hook in his shoulder and prying it from his skin. Jason squeezes his eyes shut and Bruce places a careful hand on his head. 

          "Easy." he murmurs, Jason nodding in response.

          A raw scream follows as Dick starts pulling the wire out and Bruce hurries to stroke his hair or do anything comforting. Dick apologizes endlessly as he gives the wire a small tug to keep it coming around smoothly. Jason reaches his hand up to grip Bruce's wrist where it's pressing down and he turns his face into Bruce's sleeve. Bruce shushes him. 

          "Jason, I'm really wishing we could use anesthesia on you right now." Tim says, Barbara squeezing his hand as Jason cries out. 

          Jason forces out a laugh. "Y-You and me both, kid."

          Dick grimaces as he gets to the wrist and Leslie warns him to be careful of the tissue and ligaments. Dick is careful, pulling the wire free and immediately throwing it away. Leslie quickly checks the arm over before putting stitch after stitch into his skin. When she's finished, she wraps his arm in a clean white bandage.

          "There. He can get them out, by my estimation, in about three days. Now, before I leave this bloody scene, anything else?"

          Bruce points to his knee, not pausing in his attention to Jason. Leslie doesn't take offense, only moving down and cutting his pant leg off at the thigh. 

          "Man." Jason groans. "This was my favorite pair of pants."

          "I don't think that matters so much, Little Wing." Dick says softly. 

          "Of course it matters." Jason grouses, wiping his face. 

          Leslie sews up the hole in Jason's leg and huffs. "Anything else?"

          Jason chuckles shakily. "Ya' see doc, I got this spot on my ba-ahahh-ow! Stop that!" 

          Bruce steadies him as Leslie pulls him upright, helping him ever-so-carefully out of his jacket now that his arm is wrapped up nice and snug. Once it's on the floor, a grenade clatters out of it and Damian exclaims, leaping to pick it up before anything can happen. All eyes turn to Jason with some semblance of a glare.

          "What?"

          Bruce rolls his eyes, ruffling Jason's hair. "No lectures for today. Maybe next time."

          Jason winces as Leslie sews up his back where the League star hit him. "Thank goodness. I think I might have had to make a hasty escape if you were going to lecture me."

          Leslie flicks his ear and Jason winces. "There will be no escape attempts on that leg until the wound is healed. They tried to hamstring you, Jason. You got lucky."

          "How far off were they?"

          "A few inches."

          Jason grimaces. "Could've been worse then. Goody."

          Bruce thanks her, though she glances at the blood on his chest before shaking his hand. He slips money into her pocket when she isn't looking. She may say that she doesn't need to be compensated, but Bruce knows that power bills also need to be paid. She saved his son. It's the least he can do. What he'd like to do is far, far more, but she would never accept it. 

          Bruce helps Jason up off the table, getting under his right arm to help him limp his way up the stairs. The rest of his kids, plus Barbara, follow closely behind. Jason isn't happy about sitting around, and he's already been on the phone constantly diffusing rumors about his death. Happy that he's still kicking, they are free to go about business as usual. 

          On the upside, when Jason tells them to keep it on the DL but to still let everybody in his crew across the city know he's not dead, it's quite simple. He orders, they listen. 

          By the third day, just like Leslie had predicted, he was healed enough to get his stitches out and to get back out onto the streets. He's a little tired and sore, and his arm throbs sometimes, but he's doing pretty well. 

          Satori, on the other hand, won't be. 

          Dick and Tim flank him, Damian bringing up the rear. It's just an escort to Satori's house, just in case he happened to get wind of Jason's recovery despite his precautions. It's business as usual.

          Jason knocks on the door, climbing his way up above the door frame and preparing his garrote. He grins with just a hint of amusement. Satori really got himself in trouble when he built his house with Chinese-style roofing.

          The big goon who opens the door falls within a few seconds, blood spilling from his neck as he drops to the ground, Jason still perched delicately on the red paneling. He gently presses the door closed, the thermal imaging in his new helmet letting Jason know that no one saw. He climbs higher, sliding down on the other side of the roof a small distance to minimize making sound with his steps. 

          " _You didn't have to kill him, Jay. You could take all of them out without breaking a sweat._ " Dick hisses.

          "You do things your way, I do them mine. Besides, Dingding, I'm proving a point."

          He dims the light of his lenses, slipping around the guards and taking them out one by one, tugging them into the shadows and killing them before they can make a sound. Damian makes a comment on his technique, and it sounds almost like a compliment? Jason doesn't respond, more focused on the task at hand. Jason enters the office section on the house after avoiding all the cameras in the small plaza. He'd almost decided to stand on top of the fountain in the middle like decoration, but Dick had advised him against it strongly.  _It would have been art._ ** _No, it would have been stupid._**  

          Jason smiles, kicking in the beautiful carved doors that must have cost a fortune. "Brandon Satori!" He pulls his pair of guns from their holsters, spinning them three times before pointing one at Satori's head. "Howdy."

          "You're supposed to be dead!" he shouts. 

          Jason laughs. "Funny. I was just about to say the same thing to you."

          For the first time, Satori looks afraid, and Jason shoots all the guards to let it really sink in. He pushes his chair back so hard that he makes it falls over, scrambling back on his behind to try to get away. 

          "No so scary now, are you?" Jason hisses, pulling his helmet from his face. "This is just so that you know it's me killing you, and not some pretender hiding behind the mask. Well, I'm still wearing one, I guess, but this should be familiar enough. What do you think?" Jason growls. 

          Satori scoots back until his back is against the wall and he nods frantically. "Good, good, definitely."

          Jason rolls his eyes. "See, now you're just bein' a kiss-ass. I don't really like that. Of course, I also didn't like nearly having my arm ripped off. I also didn't like being buried. So...." Jason trails off, his head tilting before a frown settles onto his features. "Do you know what I do to people who do things that I don't like?"

          Satori bites his lip, shaking his head. 

          "Well, you see, obviously you haven't been paying much attention. So I'm gonna make it easy for you."

          Satori swallows. 

          "I kill them."

          "NO! Please! I have a wife, a-a-and kids! You can't take me away from my kids!"

          Jason sighs, arms resting on his knees as he crouches in front of him, guns dangling from his grip. "You know, it's really quite the dilemma. D'you know that, Satori? On the one hand, I could let you go, and you would take your family very, very far from Gotham. On the other hand, I have a reputation to uphold. Now, I like big happy families, I really do. Got one of my own, and aren't they just lovey-dovey? We all get along  _so_ well." he tilts his head, tapping the slide of his gun against his temple. "Isn't that right, birdbrains?" There's a bunch of muttered agreements on comms and Jason purses his lips, nodding slowly. "Okay, tough crowd."

          Satori yelps as Jason points the gun back at him. "What do you want from me?!!!"

          Jason grins. "What I want is  _very_ simple, Brandon. I want you to take your family, even some of your money, and I want you to leave Gotham, get out of the drug running business, and live a normal little life in some other state. Like Transylvania. I hear it's nice there."

          Dick clears his throat. 

          Jason holds up a finger to Satori and presses another to his ear. "What?"

          " _Transylvania isn't a real place, Hood._ "

          Jason gasps. "I- what? Why would you think I was being literal? You idiot. You're so dense."

          Satori's brow raises in silent judgement and Jason levels his gun at his head. He returns to cowering soon enough. 

          Jason rolls his eyes. "Sorry, Brandon. So, as I was saying, get out. I'll give you three days to pack up your family and go somewhere like Georgia or somethin'. Got it?"

          He nods. 

          "Good. Now run along. I'm putting a 100 thousand dollar limit on what money you take from your accounts."

          "You don't have my passwords!" he exclaims. 

          "Oh, Brandon. Don't I? I've been studying you for two weeks. You didn't think I'd break in and find your cute little records book?" Satori's eyes widen and Jason smirks. "Run along. Go. This will be your only chance. If I catch wind that you've started up a drug business somewhere else, I'll track you down and burn everything you love to the ground."

          "O-Okay. I'm I-I-I'm going."

          Jason stands. "Great! Then my work here is done. By the way, I wish you all the best." Shoving his guns back into his holster, Jason turns and stalks from the house. "And Voila!"

          "Tt. He's pulling a gun out of his desk."

          Jason cackles, shoving his helmet on his head and listening to the pressure seal. "Just wait until he finds out that it's empty."

          Sure enough, as Jason reaches the door, there's the clicking of an empty chamber. Jason turns, his gaze falling on Satori, gun in his outstretched hand. He drops it.

          "Remember, Satori. I'm watching you. I'm letting you live, so count it as one of your blessings. You don't have many left."

          He turns from the office, walking out right through the plaza and opening the door. Stepping over the dead body of his guard, he shuts the door behind him. He shrugs his shoulder, wincing as it reminds him that he shouldn't be working too hard. Dick lands next to him, landing his perfect little flip. Tim comes in on his left, giving him a friendly nudge. 

          "Not too bad, Hood. Good work. A little too much blood for our tastes, but still."

          Jason turns around and catches Damian as he runs up, lifting him over his head and placing him on top of his broad shoulders. Damian would never admit it, but he likes to feel tall. 

          "Your display was adequate, Hood." Damian says, his hands holding onto his forehead. 

          Jason chuckles, patting Damian's leg. "Thanks, brat. All in a day's work."


End file.
